


HoneyBBQ Oneshots

by Interverse



Series: Interversal [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2019-09-23 07:37:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17076113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interverse/pseuds/Interverse
Summary: Underswap Papyrus and Swapfell Papyrus, Stretch and Slim. Here's some oneshots, all taking place in the same timeline and such.Also pretty much just expect constant background Cherryberry because it's my OTP and I can't refrain from at least referencing it, whoops.The NSFW chapters will be marked in their notes.





	1. Breathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shortness of breath can have many causes, some more pleasant than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Stretch's POV/NSFW]

Skeletons don’t exactly have lungs. This is strange, considering they have the need to breathe air just like most monsters and all humans and many other creatures, but their anatomy makes do. Intakes of air fill the magic in their throats and their ribs, so the visual is similar in how their ribcages rise and fall with their breaths.

 

Unfortunately, this also means they can suffocate, drown, dust from a lack of air to keep their magic flowing. Stretch couldn’t tell what it was this time. Was it a hand, clamping down on his cervical vertebrae in an attempt to wrestle the life out of him? Was it water, hot and vast and invading and wrong as it rushed into his mouth and filled his body despite his lack of consent? Was it a material, stretched taut over his face and muffling his screams as he desperately tried to tear the offending barrier away with trembling hands? Or perhaps it was nothing but himself. His doubts, his fear, his shortcomings materializing and swelling in his throat until he had no more room to suck in the breath that he foolishly thought would chase his problems away.

 

No. It was none of those things. It was nothing but a paralyzingly real fabrication of his own hated mind. He woke, his tongue curling out of his mouth as he desperately sucked in a breath, rattling his ribcage and sending tremors down the length of his body until he collapsed back down onto his bed, the breath rushing out from between his teeth along with a noise somewhere between a cough and a sob. He squeezed his sockets closed, drawing another breath, and then another, repeating the process until his Soul had slowed to a rate leisure enough so that it felt like it wasn’t ramming against the inside of his sternum as if it was attempting to escape the unkempt prison that was his body.

 

Stretch didn’t know why a common theme of his nightmares was breathlessness. He was always being smothered or drowned or choked by whatever his sleeping mind decided to force upon him. Perhaps it was because he felt trapped in life, perhaps it was due to some other philosophical cause, or perhaps it was meaningless, and just so happened to be that way for no reason in particular.

 

Stretch raised a hand to his neck, and pressed his fingertips into one of the dips between his vertebrae, feeling as the bones and cartilage shifted, expanding and shrinking ever so slightly with his breaths. He did this to convince himself that he was really breathing, because numbness was something else he often found himself with. All the smoke didn’t help with that either, but blunting his unwelcome emotions and replacing them with ones less burdening had become his favorite coping mechanism, if it could even be considered one.

 

He gently compressed his hands into fists, feeling his fingers dig into the old, soft fabric of the sweatshirt he could scarcely be found without. He smiled slightly at all the memories of his brother telling him to wash it, then resorting to bargaining and eventually literal begging when he disregarded the order.

 

Stretch wondered what Blue was doing now. He didn’t know what time it was, because he was certainly not in the mood to turn to look at the clock, but the room was dark. Therefore, by the process of elimination, his brother was probably sleeping, most likely curled up with Red. Stretch liked them together, despite how much of a hard time he gave his brother's partner. He had been skeptical at first, but leaned soon enough that despite his past and rough exterior, Red treated his brother right, and made him happy. Plus, it’s not as if he didn’t understand, considering he had also fallen for a Fell monster. Well, a Swapfell one, but it was close enough.

 

And with that, he finally remembered he wasn’t alone in his bed. Stretch honestly had no idea why he always failed to remember when his boyfriend had spent the night, but the realization gave him enough motivation to wiggle about until he was resting on his side, facing the other skeleton. Slim was still fully within the grasp of sleep, curled up in a little ball that made him look much smaller than he was. The motherfucker was barely short of seven feet tall, though he looked way taller than that anyway because he was just about as thin as a blade of grass. The nickname was there for a reason.

 

Stretch wondered what Slim was dreaming about. They were both plagued with nightmares, as all Sanses and Swap Papyruses were, but they experienced them differently. Stretch had them more frequently, but Slim’s were much worse. He’d wake from them a mess, sobbing and shaking and drenched in sweat and incapable of coherent speech and needing to be cradled back from the brink of madness lest he stay there.

 

They didn’t live together, and that was the hardest part about that for Stretch, knowing that he couldn’t always be there when Slim needed him the most. But, when in his own universe, Slim wasn’t alone. He had a complicated relationship with his brother, but when he awoke from a dream that wished him harm, Black would hold him without a second of hesitation. Cradle him, whisper small, comforting phrases into his sweat streaked skull, press kisses to his forehead and tell him he loved him and always would once he had calmed enough to understand words. While the prickly Sans yelled at him and ordered him around and left some from the softer universes concerned, Black loved his brother, and would never do anything that could actually harm him. The Swapfell brothers rarely expressed their love for one another outside of these intimate moments in the darkness, but it was enough for the both of them.

 

But Stretch could tell that today was not one of those days- that a moment of closeness would be required. Slim was breathing steadily, slender, sharp fingers curled into loose fists just beneath his chin as a look of simple serenity rested upon his features. Stretch felt his Soul flutter at the sight of the other skeleton at peace. His features were soft, and he looked young, even though he was older than Stretch and not without scars. His teeth were naturally sharp, one knocked out long ago and replaced with a gold one that was the barest amount too big, always managing to snag on the rim of his mouth and give him the look of a lost puppy. From the metal tooth sprouted a crack that snaked up through his eyesocket and wrapped around the top of his skull. It was sensitive, and though Slim tried to shake away the touches, Stretch always managed to find himself tracing along the imperfection that he could see as nothing less than perfect.

 

Slim huffed in his sleep, nuzzling into the pillow beneath his head and then seeming to deflate into the bed with a drawn out sigh. Stretch wrestled one of his arms out from beneath his blankets, then reached out with the advantage of his long limbs and gently pressed the palm of his hand against Slim’s cheekbone, rubbing soft little circles into the skeleton’s temple with his fingertips. He needn’t worry about waking his partner, for he was about as hard to wake as a rock, so he continued with the lingering touches until the need for this perfect monster grew too strong for him to remain so inactive.

 

It might not have made that much sense, then, that Stretch stopped touching his boyfriend altogether, but some type of logic returned to his actions when he began to touch himself instead. He wound his slender fingers through the hoops of his ischium and thumbed at his pubis, exhaling and squeezing his legs together at the ticklish touches. Why was it that he always felt so needy upon waking? It was as if spending so much time unattached from reality with only himself for company flipped a switch inside of him that made him crave physical contact more powerfully than all other times of the day. He usually resorted to spooning with his bedding and touching himself - sexually or no - after he had escaped the confines of sleep, but since the birth of his relationship with Slim, he was quite a help in Stretch’s times of need whenever they ended up sleeping in the same bed. At first just with cuddles and kisses, which was more than enough, but after a while until they had both grown comfortable enough with each other, with more intimate activities.

 

It appeared today was one of those days. Stretch usually resorted to touching his pelvis, because the bones there rarely received attention and it felt the most intimate, but it didn’t always have to involve any magic or sexual pleasure. However, Stretch felt himself warm under his fingers before long, shivering when his magic began to grow restless just beneath the surface of the delicate bones. A few more minutes of the slow, lazy touches and the magic emerged from his body, gathering in a small little mass at his pubis. Stretch gently prodded at it with his index and middle fingers, breath hitching at the little tingles the contact slowly spread around his pelvis. The magic lazily began to gather itself and form into something capable of bringing him pleasure more tangible and a possible climax further down the road, elongating and then refining into a shape more complex than a simple cylinder.

 

Stretch gripped the magic organ around its middle and gave it a small squeeze, curling his toes in preparation before dragging his hand up the length of it and thumbing at the very tip where a small, sensitive slit resided once he got there. He made a weak little noise at the back of his throat, slipping his hand down to the base of his cock and squeezing the other one into a fist against his sternum, accidentally catching one of the strings of his sweatshirt along the way and pulling it so that it was at a length even more uneven to the other than it had already been at previously. It only took a few more strokes to have his magic hardened and peaking at its height, but Stretch was tiring of having to move his wrist so much.

 

He chose to solve this problem by forcefully collapsing the magic back down against his pelvis and putting more thought into the process when he re-formed it. He pushed his hand further between his femurs and pressed his fingers against the new manifestation of his magic, sighing at the soft warmth against his bones. The stiffness of the magic from before had been converted into moisture, greeting his fingertips when he pushed them down into his labia. Stretch wriggled his fingers, not really touching anywhere all that stimulating but simply just enjoying the feel of his own magic against his bones. He drew his hand away a bit, then pinched one of his lips, feeling the magic shy away from between his fingers, slipping from his grip easily with the slickness of his phalanges. With a sigh, Stretch pressed one of them up against his clit, shifting as he stroked at the sensitive bit of magic until it had swollen from his attention to the spot. He slipped his fingers down along his pussy, pressing a few of them against his entrance and shivering at the warmth radiating from the area. He couldn’t exactly push them inside, because there was no magic to slip within, so he formed his body with a breath, shifting his hand into a more comfortable position now that it was compressed more tightly between his summoned thighs.

 

Once he was at an angle where he was able to, he dipped a couple of his fingers into his entrance, spreading them apart until his magic fought back against the touches. With a small shiver, Stretch brought them back up and pressed them against his clit, spreading the viscous little strings of his arousal he had picked up over it and earning a small twitch from the sensitive bundle of ectoflesh. Back down his fingers went, then inside of him to the second knuckle before he curled them upwards to massage at a sensitive spot along his inner walls. He whimpered quietly, then pressed his hand flat over his pussy, grinding his palm against his lips and clit with a small sigh.

 

Stretch quickly came to the realization that he was not enough to satisfy himself, and he bit the inside of his cheek in indecision. He had been planning to wait for Slim to wake, as he usually did eventually if he was bothered with a series of small noises over a period of time, but waiting was becoming more and more unappealing to Stretch with every passing moment. He was able to literally lift Slim out of the bed without waking him, and the prospect of messing with him without his knowledge and explicit consent made Stretch feel creepy as all hell. But… would he really mind? Or maybe he would awake long before Stretch managed to force his magic to form anything in order to tell him to stop or keep going.

 

Despite all the problems with the situation, Stretch’s neediness won over his better judgement, so he pulled his hand away from his magic and brought it to his face instead, then shyly licked it clean before wriggling into a sitting position. He closed the small distance between him and the other Papyrus, then, wincing at his actions, pulled the blankets away from Slim’s sleeping frame. He was wearing nothing but his offensively orange sweatshirt, and Slim was outfitted similarly, only equipped with the same plum toned sweater that he wore nearly every day. Stretch slowly disentangled his boyfriend’s limbs from each other, baffled at how he guy was able to sleep comfortably in such a position. His knees had been pressed up to his chest, and his legs were crossed. One of his arms had been looped under his knees while the other was in a relatively normal position, save for the way his wrist practically wound around the other in order to give the illusion that his hands were casually beneath his chin, despite the chaos that had been concealed under the covers. Once he had managed to nudge Slim onto his back, arms and legs laid flat on the bed, Stretch shuffled between his companion’s femurs and set to work, curious to see how it played out.

 

He gripped onto Slim’s iliac crests, massaging them gently and exhaling shakily, purposefully angling his head so that the warmth of his breath billowed out against his partner’s pelvis. The lack of reaction combined with Stretch’s rapidly increasing impatience had him dipping his head down to hesitantly press his tongue up against Slim’s pubis. He let it rest there for a moment, then stuck it out further and coiled it around the small, delicate bones and closed his mouth against them as well, suckling gently and doing his best to keep a steady pushing and pulling motion up with his tongue. He apparently did this well, because he was rewarded a bit later with warmth against his mouth. Stretch hummed in approval, the vibrations the sound made finally earning him a reaction from the other skeleton in the form of a small whimper.

 

Stretch pulled away from the bones with a labored breath but didn’t leave them unattended, replacing his mouth with his fingers. While this left Slim without the wetness and warmth he had had earlier, Stretch was able to touch him with more precision and finesse now, and to his delight, a small bit of dark purple magic swelled into his touches. He sped his fingers up, excitement fizzling in his Soul, and was gifted a greater volume of the magic, which he abandoned briefly in his eagerness to lap at it in place of the other touches. It tasted of blackberries, which was amusing, considering that was the original inspiration for Slim’s brother’s nickname, much to the poor guy’s chargin, but Stretch didn’t let that distract him.

 

He let out a small, tentative moan into the magic, then another when he felt it pulse under his tongue in response to the vibrations the noise made. It started to form, slowly at first, but then more rapidly until Stretch had to pull back lest he gag on the magic. Once the manifestation was complete, Stretch suckled on the magic a few times before taking it from his mouth and instead lovingly holding it with both hands. He smiled down at Slim’s familiar length, almost content to simply sit there in awe of the monster before him, festering in his love and arousal, but his own needs were too nagging to ignore without discomfort. He stroked up and down Slim’s cock, the little bumps on its underside pressing into his fingers and sending little tingles up his radii and ulnae. It took longer than he would have liked, but after a few more minutes of the steady, gentle touches, the magic hardened and gained the ability to do what Stretch wanted it to; fill him.

 

Stretch shuffled until he was straddling Slim’s pelvis, whimpering and grabbing the other monster’s cock to hold it upright. He had managed to dribble down one of his own thighs, the realization plenty to have his cheeks warming with a marigold blush. With a breath, he lowered himself just enough to let the head of his boyfriend’s magic spread his labia apart, but no further, just taking a moment to quiver and grip the other’s pelvis with his conjured thighs. He moved his wrist, rubbing Slim’s magic along his until it brushed against his clit. He mewled weakly, using his free hand to fidget with one of the strings of his sweatshirt, then rocked his hips, grinding the sensitive nub of magic over the head of Slim’s cock as gently as he could manage, but his impatience showed itself when he moved fast enough so that their magic disconnected.

 

With a shaky breath, Stretch lined their magic up, then sat down, slowly at first, then more quickly with a long overdue moan. He hunched over, panting weakly once he had hilted himself on the other’s cock, feeling the tip prod into the back of his magic. His desires satiated at least for a second, Stretch took a moment to get into a more comfortable position. He spread his knees further apart, eyelights rolling back in his head and a low groan escaping his throat when Slim’s magic consequently jabbed into his more sharply, then reached forward with one hand and pressed the palm of it against one of his boyfriend’s bottommost ribs to steady himself. He glanced up at Slim’s face for the first time in a while, eyes having previously been locked in other places. He was more expressive now, browbones furrowed just the slightest bit with a small blush beginning to surface on his cheekbones and nasal ridge.

 

With a whimper, Stretch rocked his hips, his jaw falling open to let out a shallow pant as soon as he felt his counterpart’s magic shift within his. He continued, slowly but firmly grinding himself down on Slim’s cock and privately delighting in the wet little noises the movements earned him. He brought his other hand down and slipped a finger onto his clit with a noise that could be described as nothing else than completely pathetic. Stretch paid it no mind, circling his clit with a fingertip and then two, speeding up his grinding as the ache in his core bloomed outward until he could focus on little else. He abandoned the motions after a few minutes, instead raising himself on Slim’s cock until he was about halfway empty of the other monster, then slid back down much more swiftly, squeaking and then muttering a quiet curse to himself in his embarrassment of the noise, but forced his mind away from the silly inclination of needing to modulate himself in such a situation soon after it had occupied his thoughts.

 

Stretch didn’t let up. The feeling of fullness - both in his body and his Soul - was too intoxicating to ruminate on. Slim’s magic rhythmically massaged his insides and his fingers, though shaky, managed to stay moving on his clit consistently enough to keep him motivated despite the exertion the position required. He panted and whined and moaned, and was distantly reminded of his dreams. Perhaps being breathless wasn’t always bad.

 

Slim twitched inside of him, and Stretch’s excitement flared hotly, pulling a high wine from his mouth and setting him trembling. He managed to sink and fall on Slim’s cock a few more times before his movements grew too sloppy to keep the motion up, and instead resumed in his grinding, albeit much more quickly. He pressed against his clit so firmly that the throbbing bit of magic slid slickly between two of his fingertips and he opted to hold it there, for he knew he only had a few seconds of coherent thought left to his name.

 

As expected, shortly his movements were coming to a screeching halt as he coughed out a strangled moan and clamped down on Slim’s cock as his orgasm welled and then burst inside of him. His walls loosened around his partner’s length, then gripped back on twice as hard, and that finally had Slim’s eyes flying open.

 

He looked confused for a moment, but the realization that he was currently hard and buried deep inside his climaxing boyfriend must have hit him square in the jaw just a second later, for he was suddenly blinking the haziness out of his eyelights and hissing out a stream of curses as his hands instinctively flew to grip onto the other skeleton’s hips. Stretch sobbed out another moan at the contact, allowing both of his arms to fall limply to his sides as he sat upon the monster he loved, staring into his dark, glimmering eyelights with his own, unfocused and blown wide.

 

It took a while, but his orgasm faded and the contractions of his magic slowly lessened in intensity and frequency until both finally came to an end, and Stretch weakly deflated atop the other monster with a low whine.

 

“H-Hell, darlin, why didn’t you wake me?” Slim stammered after a few moments, the first to speak.

 

Stretch swallowed, then sucked in a breath in order to reply. “I uh… I guess I did..?”

 

“W-Well yeah, but not after… uh… this…” He flicked his eyelights down to where their magic met.

 

Stretch weakly raised a hand to cover his eyes with his sleeve in his embarrassment. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

 

“N-No, it’s okay…” Slim murmured quietly. “Ah, what’s the occasion?”

 

“I um… I dunno…” Stretch mumbled, lowering his hand again. “You just… looked really… happy… in your sleep… and that made me happy too… so for some reason I decided to ride you in your sleep? What the fuck?” When forced to explain his actions, they suddenly made a lot less sense.

 

“Ha, what the _fuck_ indeed.”

 

And then Stretch was laughing, but the sound was cut off with a surprised little moan when one of Slim’s hands left his hip and lowered a bit in order to stroke a finger over his clit. “What’s on your mind for now, honey?” Slim asked lowly, sending a shiver through Stretch’s body.

 

It severely limited his options with the way Slim was still tenderly grazing one of his clawed fingertips back and forth on his clit, but Stretch certainly didn’t mind. “I’m thinkin… maybe I should help ya cum too, because it would be quite the dick move to leave ya hangin after being the one to force a boner on you…” He chuckled a bit at his own funny phrasing.

 

A corner of Slim’s mouth raised in a smile. “That sounds aight. C’mere.” He pulled forward on the summoned hip he was still holding.

 

Stretch happily lowered himself down on his lover, nuzzling into his neck and winding his arms around his ribcage, but didn’t get the chance to start moving again, because as soon as he had settled against Slim’s body, his alternate was quickly returning the embrace and then flipping him over. Stretch yelped when his back hit the mattress, but the sound was swallowed by a kiss as soon as Slim settled over him. Stretch moaned against the other monster’s mouth, parting his teeth without hesitation when Slim licked at him, twining their tongues together and sighing at his companion’s familiar taste.

 

Slim broke away after a moment, then placed another soft kiss on Stretch’s nasal ridge before speaking. “Figured this’d be more comfortable for you.”

 

“Y-Yeah…” Stretch breathed, adjusting his hold on his counterpart and letting his head thump down against the mattress.

 

Slim noticed and seemed displeased by this, slipping a hand out from beneath Stretch and grabbing his pillow before dragging it over next to his skull. Stretch smiled, Soul filling with love at the caring action, then lifted his head to allow his lover to nudge the pillow beneath it. He rested back down upon it, then with a small smile, lifted his legs and wrapped them around Slim’s waist. They were both thin and the length of their limbs was nothing to scoff at, so Stretch was able to grip onto the other skeleton quite effectively this way. Slim grunted in surprise, then returned his smile and used his newly freed hand to snake between their bodies and roll Stretch’s clit around in his fingers.

 

He moaned weakly, pulling Slim down for a kiss but then breaking from it to let another noise out when the other monster thrusted shallowly into him. Slim grunted as well, his face warming as they made eye contact. “Love you…” he groaned with the next of his thrusts.

 

“I love you too, so quit it with the conversation and fuck me…” Stretch panted, digging his fingertips into Slim’s spine with a whimper.

 

Slim dipped down and ran his tongue along Stretch’s neck, the ball of his piercing scraping along the vertebrae and earning a small noise from the other skeleton. “Course, darlin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh
> 
> There are so many designs for the Swapfell/Fellswap skeletons that it gives me a headache trying to keep them all straight, so I guess I'll explain mine. Slim is... pretty much just Red, but with skinny jeans and combat boots instead of shorts and sneakers. His sweater is also purple, as is his magic. A pretty uncommon way to see him, I'm aware.
> 
> Also damn this is stupidly similar to one of the chapters in my Cherryberry oneshot book, but oh fucking well.


	2. Impossible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's never a shortage of ways to confuse yourself into a pit of despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Slim's POV]

Slim squinted at the ceiling, trying to count all of the little bumps in the texture before quickly deciding that the headache the task gave him was not worth it. Instead, he searched for patterns. It was an activity he had grown to know well, as he’d done it ever since he was a babybones. At night, when he couldn’t sleep, or in the morning, when he felt empty and worthless until his brother came knocking at his door, each one of the sharp little noises sending jolts of purpose through his body.

 

He had practically memorized his entire ceiling, but it was more fun when he wasn’t in his room, but someone else’s. They weren’t too close, both splayed comfortably on Stretch’s bed, but they were holding hands, fingers laced tightly together and nestled into the folds of the old, worn blankets beneath them. It was enough. There was no need for words or any closer contact, and they were both perfectly content as they were, the other’s presence in any form satisfying.

 

Slim could still see the last of the haze in the air left from their previous activities. No matter how convincing the disapproving looks and sneers from Black were, he always seemed to bounce back to smoking, which had only gotten worse once he had gotten together with Stretch. Apparently Blue was much more forgiving, still disapproving but not bothering to do anything about it, so Stretch had a seemingly endless supply of smokeable goods that he was happy to share with his boyfriend.

 

It helped. He felt less inclined to glance over his shoulder at laughably frequent intervals, was less compelled to pick at his scars until they bled, and was able to look in a mirror without being sent into a pool of self-loathing.

 

After thoroughly analyzing a section of the ceiling and concluding that it contained a moon and a tree, he moved on to another. This new area was proving difficult. Was that a leaf..? No… perhaps it was roots. Yes, that made more sense. But yet again… it did also resemble a-

 

“Hey, Slim?”

 

To his embarrassment, he jumped, face immediately flushing purple afterwards even though nobody was there to care or see. “Er… yeah?”

 

“So…” Stretch started slowly, “You know how Ink always rambles about all the possibilities with how many universes there are?”

 

Slim hummed in affirmation, the simple vibrations taking less effort than the words he knew he would find a way to stumble over.

 

“He says that everything is possible, because there are so many places for things to happen, and all of those places have different rules, so there’s never something that could never happen. You know, like, no matter what.”

 

Another hum.

 

Stretch took a breath, squeezing his hand a bit tighter for a moment as well. “So… if anything and everything is possible… doesn’t that mean that it’s possible for something to be  _impossible_?”

 

Slim sat there for a moment, tentatively rolling the information around on his tongue to better understand its flavor, and when he had finished, his eyesockets were stretching wide. “Holy shit…”

 

“I know, right?” Stretch said, voice seeming drowsy and excited all at once. “But then if something was impossible, it would take something away from the rule of everything needing to be possible!”

 

Slim squinted. “Maybe… maybe like… the thing that’s impossible is completely separate from everything else to the point that it like… isn’t even relevant in any universe or multiverse or dimension or whatever… so it doesn’t disrupt the rule?”

 

Stretch was silent for a few moments, then spoke again. “Okay… like… that could work… but again… if anything is possible, doesn’t that mean it would be possible for like… a specific thing to be impossible? I mean, if everything’s possible, then it would be possible for… trees to be impossible, right?”

 

Slim didn’t like this notion one bit. “Wait… so… that means it’s possible for _everything_ to be impossible, too. It’s possible that the entire fucking rule is a lie and nothing is possible and this is all just an illusion- but wait illusions aren’t possible either- _fuck_ -!” he finished, deflating.

 

Stretch groaned. “Man, this is fucking dumb.”

 

Another hum, clearly depicting Slim’s agreement. Silence filled the room again, warm and comforting and seeming to cradle the both of them without judgement or hesitation. Slim would have been unhappy that the quiet was chased away if a different monster was responsible, but his lover’s voice swam through his skull with a gentleness that no sound other than the lack of it could achieve.

 

“Sorry in advance… but I uh… I have another one.”

 

“Shoot.”

 

Stretch sucked in a breath of air in preparation for speech. “Alright, so, light speed. Three hundred million whatever whatevers per whatever or some shit in a vacuum, right?”

 

“Yeah.” _299,792,458 meters per second in a vacuum_ , to be exact, but Stretch’s explanation was sufficient enough.

 

“So, okay, say you’re just ambling along at light speed or whatever-”

 

“But you can’t,” Slim interjected, his love of such things taking priority over his instinct to let his partner finish. “You have mass, and light speed is impossible unless the thing going at said speed is massless.”

 

“I know, I know,” Stretch scoffed gently. “But just say that you were, okay? Decided you wanted a new look so you convert your entire body into photons or somethin.”

 

“Alright,” Slim relented.

 

“Okay, so then you have a flashlight, also, uh, massless, and you turn it on.”

 

“Flashlight is on. Got it.”

 

Stretch huffed. “You’re already traveling at light speed, so… the new light from the flashlight… how fast is it going? Does it just take a giant shit on the rules of the universe and go twice the speed of light?”

 

Slim furrowed his browbones. Clearly, this situation would never present itself in reality, but… if it did… “I… don’t know…” He thought for another moment. “Maybe… what if the light still went at the speed of light, so it just didn’t go anywhere and just hung out right at its source. Like a little light pool.”

 

Stretch chuckled. “I bet it would be super expensive to swim in. Heh, or maybe the universe would just give the entire situation a giant middle finger to the face and make it all collapse into a black hole.”

 

Slim nodded to the best of his ability from his position. “Black holes always solve paradoxes.”

 

More silence, then more soft speech. “Hey, cummere.”

 

Slim felt a little tug on his hand, so he disentangled it from Stretch's, then rolled over until he was nestled into his alternate’s side. He rested his head on his shoulder, squeezed an arm underneath him, and twined their legs together with a sigh. Stretch was warm, not to mention soft and familiar and _safe_ , so it was no surprise Slim was drifting off to sleep in a matter of minutes.

 

“Hey. You know I love you, right?”

 

That woke him up. “I… yeah… I know…” he whispered after a few moments, squeezing his companion tighter for a moment. He swallowed. “So I guess it’s possible for it to be impossible that you’re tellin the truth, huh?”

 

Stretch shushed him. “I thought we agreed that all that bullshit could just go and swallow a huge dick.”

 

Slim breathed in. The other smelled of honey and smoke and something else that he couldn’t give a label, but it sent a shiver down his spine all the same. “I love you too, darlin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm blowing my own mind here-


	3. "Painless"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stretch learns that even with good intentions, things can go... very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Stretch's POV]

“This is not what I thought you meant by ‘ _dinner and a show_ ’.”

 

Stretch froze with his piece of pizza dangling in front of his face, hastily flicking his eyelights to the side. “Well I mean… I _did_ actually attempt to make something but uh…” He trailed off, letting the slight smell of something having been burnt that still remained in the air do the talking for him.

 

Slim chuckled. “Relax, this is great. S’long as I get to escape my bro and come see you, I’m happy.”

 

Stretch sighed, allowing himself to cram the pizza in his mouth and then devour it before making his reply. “I’m glad, because I don’t think I’m going to be getting much better at this whole food preparation gig any time soon.”

 

“I can relate.”

 

When they had successfully consumed two entire pizzas and burnt through a painfully bad movie, Slim ended up draping himself over the other monster, skull comfortably nestled underneath Stretch’s chin and long arms balled up beneath him so that he was touching the other with as much of himself as possible.

 

“We’re disgusting,” the Fell skeleton eventually sighed.

 

Stretch glanced over to where the grease soaked boxes that had been holding their dinner were now festering, but only scoffed. “Rude. And no we’re not.” He slowly raised his arms to embrace his alternate. “We’re the image of perfection. ‘Specially you.”

 

Slim didn’t reply, but Stretch knew he would be blushing. They remained in warm, contented silence for several more minutes after that, and Stretch was teetering on the verge of sleep, but Slim roused him with a tentative murmurer. “Can we… move?”

 

Stretch didn’t think he had ever been more comfortable in his entire goddamn life. “...Why?” he slurred out with his fatigued and clumsy mouth.

 

“My um… my back hurts…”

 

Stretch cracked an eye open. “Bad?”

 

“Yeah I’m uh, sorry…”

 

Stretch moved one of his hands to lightly stroke up and down his lover’s spine, forcing both of his eyes to open. “It’s alright. Not your fault your body hates you. Wanna go to bed or whatever?”

 

Slim nodded against him, then slowly began to disentangle himself from Stretch’s hold. He thankfully managed to land on his feet, though he stumbled about for a few painfully long seconds before he had fully regained balance. He grimaced and rolled his shoulders as Stretch struggled into a standing position as well, looking at his boyfriend in concern once he had righted himself. He smiled and cheesily lifted up a finger when something struck him. “Aha!”

 

“What is it?” Slim inquired, raising a brow as he tilted his neck to the side in an attempted stretch.

 

“Something my bro gave me,” Stretch responded, grabbing Slim by the hand and dragging him towards his room. The lack of stairs in this house were a true, true blessing.

 

Once there, he continued on into the bathroom while Slim sat on the bed, dug through the medicine cabinet, then returned with a little container. “Pain goop.”

 

“What the hell?” Slim snorted. “That doesn’t sound good.”

 

“Otherwise known as… _deep penetrating biocooling CBD_ ,” Stretch read from the bottle. “Blue gave it to me, says he uses it on Red. You guys seem to be linked with your chronic pain.”

 

Slim laughed weakly. “I guess we are. But I don’t see why it’s only me,” he added with a pout, “Your posture is just as bad as mine.”

 

“It is,” Stretch confirmed, screwing the lid off of the gel’s container. “The curse of Fell universes strikes again, it seems.”

 

“Indeed it does.”

 

Stretch sniffed the substance, and instantly pulled back at how it burned in his nasal cavity. “Wow. Okay so it’s supposed to tingle a bit, but make your pain disappear or whatever. You down?”

 

Slim nodded, and smiled. “Yes. Thank you, darlin.”

 

Stretch sat down on the bed beside him, and prompted him to disrobe. “No problem. I can’t wait to beat your pain into absolute submission.”

 

Slim laughed as he pulled his shirt over his head, then flopped down onto his front, sighing and giving Stretch full access to his long, scarred spine. Stretch dipped three of his fingers into the gel, scooping out a generous amount and then giving his partner a waning before spreading the substance thickly along Slim’s cervical and thoracic vertebrae.

 

“Oh, holy shit that’s cold-!” Slim yelped, squirming a bit.

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

“Uh, no, not really.” Slim grimaced. “Keep at it.”

 

Stretch listened, getting more of the gel and slathering it over the Fell skeleton’s lumbar vertebrae and then sacrum, after he had scooted the waistband of his pants down to gain access. He even used a fingertip to push some of it into Slim’s sacral foramina, because why not get it in all the places it could reach, right? Plus, the little holes were sensitive. Laps from shy a tongue or caresses from clawed fingertips there were not foreign to him, as Slim loved to touch him in little places like that, which usually went unnoticed and ignored.

 

Said monster hissed when the gel had been spread further over him, but insisted he was fine. Stretch began to run his hands up and down his boyfriend’s spine, putting pressure on each vertebra and giving each disc a gentle squeeze. Slim shivered and sighed at first, clearly enjoying the treatment, but a few seconds later, he was screaming.

 

Stretch jumped, and let out a little yell himself. “Oh my god, what what- what the fuck?! What’s wrong-?!”

 

Whatever Slim screeched out as his body lurched upwards until he was on his hands and knees was nearly unintelligible, but Stretch managed to discern that the situation was not good in the slightest. “It burns?? That bad-?!”

 

More screaming confirmed that. Trying not to break out in a stream of shrieks and yells himself, Stretch attempted to get off of the bed, but it didn’t work out so well. He fell backwards and landed heavily on the floor. He could swear he heard one of his wrists pop, but he ignored the sudden pain and pushed himself to stand. He knew that it had to be the gel. What in the hell was going on? Had Blue suddenly decided that he hated them? Was it a bad batch? Was Slim just too sensitive?

 

Stretch crashed into the bathroom and grabbed a towel with such force that it nearly pulled the rack clean off the wall, but he could worry about the absolutely precious piece of 15G equipment later. He flung the towel over Slim’s back once he'd returned to the bed, and roughly set about trying to scrub all of the gel off of him. But it was sticky, and his haste obviously made the experience unpleasant, evident from the way Slim only got louder. The Fell monster flung himself from the bed, and, still screaming, and sprinted into the bathroom. Stretch cringed at all of the crashing he heard, but followed his counterpart and found him to be in the shower, still in his pants and frantically attempting to turn the water on. He finally succeeded, and turned to let the water hit his spine, slamming his fists against the wall of the shower to steady himself.

 

Panicking and out of options, Stretch leapt into the shower as well, of course without taking a single article of his clothing off. The water soaked into his offensively orange sweatshirt until it felt heavy enough to pass for a weight at the gym, but he couldn’t pay attention to that right now. He grabbed a bar of soap, cursed under his breath when it slipped around in his grasp, and then crashed it down against Slim’s spine as soon as he got a grip on it. He scrubbed and scrubbed until the entire bar of soap was completely gone, Slim’s shrieking gradually fading away into hisses and gasps of pain. The hot water was long gone and practically frigid by the time Slim had calmed down enough to go back to bed, and Stretch was shivering quite enthusiastically because of it.

 

He helped Slim dry off, his own sopping clothes gushing little waterfalls down onto his previously untarnished bathroom floor and joining the many puddles that had already formed from all of the chaos. He gave up, and ditched them to rest in wet little mountains on the floor before reentering the bedroom. Slim had already flopped down face first onto the bed, groaning into the pillow, and was snoring before Stretch had joined him.

 

The next morning Slim was as good as useless, practically in a coma from how hard he was still sleeping, even by the time Stretch had naturally awoken and begrudgingly dragged himself out of bed. Blue was over to visit as planned, so Stretch sat with his head on the table as his brother attempted to converse with him.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Papy? And where’s Slim?”

 

“Still… still in bed,” Stretch yawned, managing with great difficulty to lift in head and meet his brother’s gaze.

 

“It’s four in the afternoon,” Blue stated, eyelights glittering in concern.

 

“It's because your gel was rigged,” Stretch grumbled groggily.

 

“What?”

 

Stretch begrudgingly recounted the previous night’s tale, and needless to say, was pretty unhappy as well as embarrassed when he was informed that you were only supposed to use a tiny dab of the gel. Upon examining the container again, it did indeed state that, loud and clear.

 

The sprained wrist didn’t help much either. Perhaps ‘pain goop’ had been an accurate title to the thing after all, because it sure had caused them plenty of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Waddup, I'm Stretch, I'm 19, and I never fuckin learned how read (all of the instructions)."


End file.
